Creepypasta: Dealing with Insomnia
I woke with a start, looking around to get an idea of what was going on. This was a normal occurrence yet always an unpleasant surprise. It was only two in the morning and I knew I was not going to get any more sleep. I slid under the covers, only now realizing how much I had sweated tonight. It felt too gross to lie there any longer so I sprang to my feet and walked to the door, hoping I could find something to calm me down. The first thought was going to the kitchen and getting some water. That plan was somewhat destroyed when I stepped on broken glass.
"What the-", I hissed with pain. There was a shard taking comfort in the plant of my foot as I took a step back to further examine what was happening. All of a sudden there was a creak at the door next to me, taking my attention away from the fresh blood spewing over my clean floor. Damn I was going to have to clean that soon. I looked at the darkness emanating from the newly opened door. There was something off about it but I really didn't care.
I looked back down at my foot, a much larger puddle looking back at me. I sat down next to it and tried pulling out the shard from my foot. It was really etched in there; I might have to call someone to take me to the hospital. Just when I thought I was making some progress in pulling it out a growl met my ears. I felt like I had been swallowed whole by the sound. I sat there, frozen in fear, thinking as to what the hell had made such an unearthly sound. I thought of looking back but I couldn't. I was simply stuck here, feeling something etch closer to me.
As seconds turned into minutes I knew I had to do something quickly. What was going on? Man I felt lost, I hate feeling lost. Was this thing watching me? What did it want? Was it human, a burglar, a stalker? No it didn't feel human. Then what was it? It could not be anything but human. It didn't feel like any animal either. It was just, dark. Why couldn't I move? That is what was really bothering me. I should be able to move. I don't consider myself to be brave, no. I've never been particularly brave but I wanted to face this thing so why couldn't I?
Then, I looked at the glass shards spread in front of me. I stared at them with insurmountable concentration, trying to focus on the image scattered. More confusion. Just more confusion. This thing, it was sitting directly behind me, almost crouching over me really. What did it have in its hands? Was that, was that a notebook? I think it was drawing. Yeah, it was definitely drawing.
Drawing what? It seemed so focused. Wait, how did I know it even felt that? Its face was so deformed, almost inexistent under a black hood. Its knees protruded out of its cloak, disgustingly white and abnormally skinny, serving as a makeshift table for him. I couldn't really see his hands. This bothered me. Why couldn't I see his hands? Actually wait, this was distracting me of the real matter at hand. I could not move and this creature from hell was drawing behind me.
Sweat was running profusely down my back. Gosh I hate sweating so much. I hate this scenario. I hate so many things. Why do I hate all these things? Am I...unhappy? Is this why I can't sleep at night? No, I can't sleep at nights because I'm always expecting a text from my phone. There is way too much noise in this damn apartment complex to really get a full nights rest. Ugh this place was terrible.
The neighbors weren't the greatest people either. Hell I was pretty crappy myself. It didn't matter though; they were the ones that should be nice. Jeremy could stand being nicer to me. I could hear him stomping all the time above me. Could he not understand I had work early in the morning? Oh and when his girlfriend came over, gosh they made a ruckus. How could two people make so much noise? They sound like they have fun. I wish I could make noise with someone. Why was no one interested in me? I was alright, I was likable...right? Tina could try to like me more I was always so nice to her, mainly because she was so hot.
"You're...sad" I froze. My mind had drifted too far from the situation again. The...creature, the thing, it had...spoken? It definitely spoke. I understood those words even though they sounded so distant, so morbid. Did this hellish thing really know how I felt? It did say what was on my mind; it actually pinpointed the exact reason for my mental rant. Then, I felt its hand on my shoulder. It slowly turned me around, making me feel faint and nauseous. I wasn't aware how much blood I had been losing. Now I was looking directly at this being. It looked familiar. It sounds weird doesn't it? It almost felt like an old friend I hadn't seen in a long time. Now that we were right in each other's faces he showed me what it had been drawing this whole time. In my glistening blood, was a portrait of myself. I seemed to be...crying. It wasn't any normal cry, no. These tears were flowing down my cheeks in a grotesque way. I looked towards the monsters face. It was having trouble breathing, almost heaving really. "You're...sad."
I awoke with a start, looking around with utter confusion. I needed some water. I slowly slipped out of my sweat filled covers and rose from my bed. I felt so tired. I stepped out into the hall only to meet with excruciating pain as a shard of glass dug into my foot. I looked down as blood began to spill out of my open wound. I should probably call someone for help...
Creepypasta by Steven Gutiérrez